Why does everyone hate on morning people?

I feel like this needs to be addressed, out in the open for the entire world to see: Why. Do. You. All. Hate. Morning. People?

We’re a rare breed, and you should let us be free. What’s wrong with us? Nothing. And you know why?

I wake up at around 5am, yeah pretty early – but hey I work in hospitality so you get used to it. In the summertime, the sun is probably close to rising (thanks, Australia). But in winter, it’s like this majestic wonderland where for once this lack of light offers some solitude. So I’ll go to my Tuesday 6am yoga class, or on another day I’ll go for a run. And yeah, I love yoga – but running is a whole different story. I’ll hate myself, I’ll lie in bed trying to think of reasons why NOT to go for a run, but I’ll end up doing it because unfortunately, I am my own worst enemy.

And I hate the run. Most of it. I’m a yoga person, I don’t enjoy this form of rigorous exercise that messes up my breathing even more than it already is. There’s this stupid fucking hill that I make myself run to the top of, and I get to the top SO puffed and so exhausted. Anyway, stop letting me get carried away – this post isn’t about running it’s about being a morning person. So I’ve been running up this fucking hill, and I look out into the distance…and there it is. The reason I made myself do it. The accomplishment. From the height of this damned hill, I can see the tree line, and usually it’s timed just right so I can see these beautiful rays of the sun. For the rest of my stupid run, it’s not so stupid. Because I feel like I’m running with the sun, which is completely impossible – but it feels amazing.

Getting up this early is incredible. No one’s awake, it’s as if you’re alone in the world for a while. There’s no sound apart from the awakening birds and well, my panted breath because obviously I’m running. Apart from that, there’s nothing. It’s just emptiness all around. A sanctuary from this often busy world that consumes you with the constant buzz of thoughts surrounding your skin. For that short time, that hour or even that twenty minutes of solitude, you feel alone. But not just that ‘I’m alone but I’m not lonely’ kind of thing. It’s as if you’re literally by yourself in the world.

And okay, some of you might be sitting there like ‘what the fuck is this bitch on about? That sounds miserable’. Nope, it so isn’t. For that time I spend exercising, I don’t have to worry about people judging my retarded run (not that I do, judge away), or my resting bitch face, or anything really. It’s like being naked and free. Except, I’m not game enough to actually be naked. Freedom is enough.

So you night owls, keep doing your thing. I’m perfectly happy with you waking up late and leaving me to experience my morning of emptiness: it’s glorious. My morning friends and I will continue on with our sanctuary of solitude, not that I ever want to meet them because that’ll ruin my moment (sorry, guys). And night owls? Don’t you dare rise before 7am: just because I’m a morning person doesn’t mean I want to talk to you before I’ve had a coffee.

One Comment

  1. emvardz

    YEEESSSS I feel the same way. I’m up by 6 every morning, and I love that little bit of time where I can get up and do my own thing, and get stuff done, all while everyone else is still asleep.


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